


All Five Dances

by PepperF



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: AU from end of S3, F/M, now with more waltzing, or at the end of S2, personally this is my headcanon, ymmv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5662576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At their first-year dance, there was The Kiss. And then at the second-year dance, there was The Thing That Never Happened. And now it was their third-year dance...</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Five Dances

**Author's Note:**

> Because why would I write either of the things I'm currently in the middle of writing when I could write this completely unrelated third thing instead? Fuck you, inspiration. Fuck you very much.
> 
> This is slightly AU at the end of season 2 (although who's to say, really), and completely AU from the end of season 3.
> 
> A million, billion thanks to Bethany, who not only edited but inspired this one. :)

Jeff was not nervous.

'Nervous' implied that he thought something might happen. 'Nervous' suggested that he was _afraid_ of what might happen. 'Nervous' hinted that he was somehow not in control of the situation, that he was being carried along by fate or destiny or horniness or what have you. 'Nervous' had the nerve to say that he cared.

And Jeff didn't care, so he wasn't nervous. End of story.

Okay, so there was some history there that might cause a lesser man to be nervous. At their first-year dance, there was The Kiss. And then at the second-year dance, there was The Thing That Never Happened. And now it was their third-year dance, and... But two times was not enough to establish a pattern – an escalating pattern – even if it was two times out of two, so far. This year would disprove the theory. Nothing was going to happen between him and Annie, despite one or two fantasies he might have had at the beginning of the year, and once the night was over and he'd proven to himself that there wasn't any kind of curse or charm or third-time-lucky thing going on, he could stop being nervous.

Not that he was nervous, so really the point was moot.

He'd tied this tie a little too tightly. He really ought to go to the bathroom and adjust it. And he would, as soon as Annie – as soon as _all of the study group_ had arrived. It was only the good manners that his mother had always praised.

"Jeff, you're twitching."

He glared at Abed. "I'm not twitching," he said, stilling his leg.

Abed gave him his best 'don't fuck with me' look. "Yes you are," he said, incontrovertibly. "Is it because of what happened this time last year, and the year before?"

Jeff's eyes widened. _Fuck. Did he know? How did he know? He always knew! Shit, Annie was going to freak if the rest of the group found out! He had to keep Abed silent somehow – gaslight him into thinking he was wrong._

"Hmm?" he said, casually.

"You know, the whole paintball thing," said Abed. 

Jeff tried not to look too relieved. _He didn't know._

"I don't think the dean is going to do paintball again this year, or possibly ever. I pointed out to him that most of the best tropes had already been played out. And besides, the custodial staff threatened to quit if he did it again."

"Oh. Thanks, Abed. That's good to know. I'm feeling much better now," said Jeff.

"No problem," said Abed. His eyes lifted to somewhere behind Jeff. "Oh look, Annie's here."

Jeff did _not_ snap his head around so fast that he nearly gave himself whiplash. He turned – swiftly – to see where their mutual friend had just entered the cafeteria. Abed gave a wave, and Annie spotted them and waved back. She started making her way through the crowd, and really, this tie was definitely too tight.

Jeff's heart wasn't going a mile a minute. He'd seen plenty of beautiful women in his time. He saw Annie almost every day. Sure, she looked hot in her tight-fitting satin dress, which was a straw color slightly paler than her skin, so if he were to squint she might almost look nude. So he wasn't blind to the attractiveness of his female friends – so what? Shirley and Britta also looked great in... whatever they were wearing. He could totally tear his eyes away from Annie and look at them, too, any time he wanted.

Any time.

"Hi," she said, when she reached them. Jeff tried to read into her smile. Did it deepen when she glanced at him? Did it falter? Was there a shade of nervousness there? Because she had nothing to worry about – nothing was going to happen, after all.

Maybe he should ask her to dance. You know, to prove that they could get close in a pseudo-romantic setting, at the end of year dance, without any consequences.

"Annie! You look hot," said Britta, embracing their friend. She shot him a look. "See, Jeff, that's what's known as a _com-pli-ment_. Women actually prefer them to you just standing there drooling."

He glared at Britta, and didn't dignify her remark with an answer.

Annie, meanwhile, was grinning and not blushing at all. "Thanks, Britta. You look amazing! I love that shade of blue on you."

And then she was being dragged into a dress discussion with Britta and Shirley, which was just rude of them because Jeff hadn't even had a chance to greet her yet. Not that he needed to. He'd already seen her today. The only difference was that everyone had changed clothes. Nothing important, really.

He wondered if the punch had been spiked yet. Now seemed like the perfect time to find out. He stood up and muttered, "I'm gonna get a drink," hoping no one would hear him and ask him to bring them one as well.

Apparently Annie had ears like a bat, though, because she quickly turned. "Oh, wait, I'll come with you." She tucked her arm through his, completely casually, as though she wasn't freaked out at all.

Well, two could play at that game. As they made their way around the edge of the dance floor, Jeff leaned over her and gave her his most charming smile. "You look great."

She smiled at him without a hint of a flutter. "Thanks. And of course you look gorgeous, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that."

Jeff preened. "No, but it's nice to know that my work wasn't wasted," he said. When they stopped at the drinks table, she held glasses for them both, and Jeff filled them with punch.

"You know, I wasn't sure I'd even bother with the dance, this year," she remarked, gazing absently across the dance floor.

Jeff paused, ladle in hand. "What? Why?"

She shrugged. "Well, you know, we'll be back here next week, retaking biology. It hardly feels like the end of the year, this time."

"Oh," said Jeff. "That." He dropped the ladle back into the bowl with a splash. "You know, with everything that's happened lately, somehow I'd managed to forget about the death of all my summer plans."

"Sorry," she said, handing him his glass of punch and grinning up at him. "Go back to living in denial. I won't bring it up again, I promise."

"No, no – the illusion has been shattered, along with my heart," he sighed, making her giggle.

"Don't you usually claim that you don't have a heart?"

"Yes, well." He glanced down at her, feeling the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Something about this place keeps trying to bring it out in me."

And there it was. A spark of awareness, of fear and excitement, in her eyes – and for a moment he was back there, in the dark, with Annie trembling in his arms...

They both looked away quickly.

"Just so it can be stomped on," he added, lightly.

Annie swallowed, and turned back to him. This time, there was a slight but perceptible hesitation in her smile. "Don't worry, we'll look after you," she promised quietly. "The group, I mean."

He stepped closer – she was hard to hear over the thumping dance music – and was pleased to see that her breathing picked up. It was particularly noticeable given the low cut of her dress, and it took a lot of willpower to keep his eyes level with hers. He wasn't sure what exactly he was doing, but all his nerves (okay, so he might have been slightly nervous) seemed to settle when she was close. It wasn't that she was soothing; it was more like all his senses were overwhelmed, too much to worry about trivial things like the past or the future or their friends or anyone else in the room.

"Annie?"

"Yeah?"

"Wanna dance?"

She glanced at the drink she held. "Oh! Um..." She set it down quickly. "Yes. I'd like that."

Jeff followed suit, and then took her hand, pulling her quickly out onto the dancefloor. He'd had a reason to want to ask her to dance, earlier, but was having trouble remembering it. Annie let him twirl her, spinning back close into his body with her back to his chest. The music was a cheerfully bland, Europoppy song that he vaguely recognized… oh god, was it by Roxette? This _had_ to be the dean's playlist.

"Remember my first-year Halloween dance?" called Annie, over the music.

"How could I forget?" he asked rhetorically. Truthfully, he probably hadn't thought of it since – but now it came flooding back in vivid Technicolor, Annie practically bouncing on her toes with excitement because 'the cool guy' had asked her to dance, all flying hair and big eyes and blinding smiles. Back then, he'd thought that she was untouched by life, even though he'd known vaguely about the Adderall stuff – somehow it hadn't seemed important, like it hadn't really affected her, aside from a few additional insecurities that drove her to be more of a workaholic and therefore a useful member of the study group. He'd assumed – stupidly, thoughtlessly – that she used her mildly tragic background to leverage people around her. Hell, it had even worked on him a time or two (or three, or four, or _every goddamn time_ ).

What had taken him time to understand was that she was a survivor, someone who was still dealing with the fallout from her addiction – estranged from her parents (who, by the sounds of it, hadn't exactly been a picnic in the first place), scraping money together to rent a shitty apartment above a sex shop, struggling against the setback to her planned career path – but who was still somehow holding onto her sparkly-unicorn-rainbow outlook on life. The kind of trauma that had turned him into a bitter pessimist hadn't managed to knock her back or make her lose heart. She was kind of amazing.

The music changed, mercifully, because he was damned if he was going to have any moments or epiphanies to the sounds of Roxette. It was a slower tune, and he pulled her close, moving into a sort of swaying waltz. Annie smiled unabashedly up at him, and then glanced off to the side.

"People will talk," she remarked – but she looked more mischievous than concerned, and Jeff pulled her even closer.

"By 'people', you mean those busybodies we call friends. When don't they talk? If they think this is scandalous—" He cut himself off, wary of where that heedless sentence was going.

Annie blushed slightly, but met his eyes. "Their heads would explode if they found out the rest," she finished for him.

Jeff was surprised she'd referenced it so unflinchingly. But then, he remembered, she'd been quite pragmatic about it at the time, too. It was her suggestion that what happened in the storage closet outside the Speech and Language lab should stay in the storage closet outside the Speech and Language lab. He'd only recently broken up with Britta, she'd pointed out, quite calmly for someone whose knees were still wobbly, _and while it was very nice, Jeff, I don't want to be your rebound fling, or the next in line as you work your way through the study group._

He'd refrained from pointing out that he had no intention of working his way through the study group or that he and Britta hadn't really had anything of substance to be rebounding from, and had agreed to her terms – namely that they pretended it had never happened. What else could he have said? _No, Annie, getting carried away at the school dance and finger-fucking you in a storage closet, surrounded by cleaning equipment, was one of the most transformational sexual experiences of my life and I think we should keep doing it, preferably often, preferably all the time, look can we just go to bed and never leave_? Yeah, right!

"There is no 'rest'," he pointed out. "We agreed, remember?"

Annie shrugged. "Yeah, but…" Her lips curled into a lazy, seductive smile that set his heart tripping dangerously again. "We have kind of a tradition going, don't we?"

He stared at her, swaying automatically to the music, not altogether sure if he was hearing things or reading too much into things. "…What?"

"Well, you know, at the first-year dance we kissed, at the second-year dance we _you know_ , and now this is the third-year dance…"

Jeff narrowed his eyes, flashing back to a very misleading text message. "Annie, am I about to get screwed in the Biology room?"

Annie rolled her eyes. " _No._ Not in the sense you mean." She looked up at him slyly. "But then again, the door does lock, so maybe we could go try it out."

"Annie!" Shit, he was starting to sound like an eighty-year-old maiden aunt.

Jeff looked swiftly over his shoulder, and found that the rest of the group had dispersed. Abed was over by the DJ, Britta was dancing with Pierce, and Shirley was looking over Subway's restaurant kiosk with an expression that said malicious damages were on her mind. Off the top of his head, he could think of a dozen ways this could all go horribly wrong in the next few minutes, if someone responsible wasn't there to keep an eye on them.

He looked back down at Annie, and thought about how much she'd grown and changed in the time that he'd known her, and how it had been half a year since she turned 21, how there was an assuredness about her now that she'd not had when they first met, although even back then she'd gone after what she wanted with both hands and all her heart. He thought about storage closets, fantasy musical production numbers, and a kiss that had felt like neither a New Year's resolution nor the breaking thereof, nor anything else he'd ever experienced.

Her grin was confident and seductive, and her eyes were bright with excitement – and his mind was made up.

"Wanna get out of here?"

"Well, _duh,_ " she replied, laughing.

He danced them briskly (not urgently, _briskly_ ) towards the nearest exit, and glanced quickly around. There was some kind of disturbance around the buffet, centered on Garrett; it seemed fate or destiny or what have you was on his side tonight. Hand-in-hand, they ducked through the crêpe-swathed doorway and made their escape.

"Where to?"

Annie – in sync with him as always – didn't hesitate. "Your car."

"Right." A level somewhere between 'a storage closet' and 'an actual bed'; it made sense, given their history. Plus it had one major advantage over either of their beds: it was close.

(There were actual beds in the sleep lab, but that would be weird and probably unsanitary, best to forget that he'd even had that thought, oh, a few months ago when their apartment was being fumigated. Was it wrong that he had a mental map of the Greendale campus in terms of places to have sex? It probably wasn't something he needed to share with anyone ever.)

\---

His car was parked under a streetlight and close to the campus buildings, so – fighting back the urge to bundle her into the back seat straight away – he instead opened the passenger door for her, and drove them swiftly to a distant, deserted corner of the parking lot. She nodded approvingly at this sound tactic, and as soon as the engine was off, she unbuckled her seatbelt (only Annie would put on her seatbelt to drive five hundred yards in a parking lot) and practically flung herself at him.

He lost his keys, his tie, and his situational awareness, not necessarily in that order. "You know… the really cool thing… about my car?" he said, between feverish kisses.

He couldn't help smirking when Annie grunted in annoyance and sat up awkwardly, hampered by her tight dress. "Seriously?" she demanded. "You want to talk about your car right now?"

"This." He hit a button, and his seat began to slide backwards, until it was almost horizontal.

Annie's frown disappeared, and she bit her lip – but gave up, and gave a peal of laughter, pressing closer to him. "Oh god, I'm sorry, but old Jeff was _so_ sketchy!"

"Hey, don't knock it," he said mildly, not really offended. It had been an optional extra, and lumbar support hadn't exactly been on his mind when he purchased it. As it turned out, it had probably been most useful when he lost his apartment, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

Instead, he distracted her from the ridiculousness of his former self by sliding a hand up her pale thigh, pushing up the hemline of her dress until she shuddered, eyes closing, hands clenching in his shirt. Her legs were bare, and all he could feel beneath his fingers was soft, warm skin, all the way up to the lacy edge of her panties. "Oh god, Jeff," she moaned. It was a year since he'd last heard that sound, and he wondered dazedly how on earth he'd made it that long.

She used her hold on his shirt to lean up and kiss him again, and he lost himself in the innocent eroticism of it, tongues sliding together and her body warm against his, forgetting their limited time and his pressing need to move things along. It wasn't until her hand slipped into his opened shirt, teasing the hairs on his chest and making him shiver, that he was recalled to their situation, and he broke the kiss, panting.

She was still sitting awkwardly on his lap, so he shoved the skirt of her dress up as far as her hips, and pulled her across him. Annie balanced herself with a hand on his shoulder, and used the new angle to grind hard against his erection, making him groan.

"Christ, Annie…"

He dove back into the kiss and ran his hands up her back in search of a zipper, needing to touch her everywhere, right _now_.

"Side opening," she muttered, reaching back and pulling his hand to the fastening. He tugged it down, and Annie shimmied so the top of her dress fell open, multitasking impressively as she continued to kiss him senseless. He had to take a look – he'd been dreaming of this moment for years now and he wasn't going to waste it, location be damned – so he leaned forward and kissed his way down her neck, wet and hot and on the attack, until she was sighing and loose-limbed in his arms, eyes closed like she was moments away from actual swooning. Her bra was smooth, white, and strapless, and in seconds he had it unhooked and flung onto the passenger seat.

She purred when he cupped her breasts, and opened her eyes a fraction to smirk down at him – but he was too distracted to care. When he ran his thumbs over her nipples, her whole body jolted, and she groaned.

"Oh god, Jeff, don't stop."

He knew they didn't have long, and needed to hurry this along – the study group would notice their absence eventually – but he kept losing himself. Her breasts were… _damn_ … and the soft moans she was making… and the warm curve of her ass… and the way she hissed and clutched at him when he slid his fingers down and in… and she was so wet for him, god, he hadn’t touched her like this in a year and he was a _fucking idiot_.

At least Annie had a sense of urgency. "Now, Jeff, I want you now," she gasped, pushing him back hard against the seat. Together, they fumbled his fly open, and Jeff lifted his hips while Annie rose up on her knees to shove his pants and boxers down to his ankles, and then managed a quick, impressively gymnastic move to get her own panties down and off, discarding them along with her heels in the footwell.

Somehow, despite everything, he'd still expected her to be shy, so he sucked in a surprised breath when she immediately wrapped her hand around his cock and gave it a brisk pump. "Shit, shit, no, don't," he panted, pulling her hand away and desperately holding onto the shreds of his self-control. "Too much."

"Condom," muttered Annie, and grabbed her sequined clutch from the dashboard, triumphantly pulling said item from its depths just a moment later.

He watched admiringly as she tore open the foil packet. "Annie," he said. "Did you plan all this?"

She shrugged airily. "Not planned, exactly. Let's just say I prepared for the eventuality," she temporized.

"God, you are just so…" He had to kiss her again, hands in her hair, feeling all the stupid, romantic clichés that he'd always told himself were just tricks to get into someone's pants. He pressed his forehead to hers. "I love it when you're devious," he muttered against her lips. She hummed, and he could feel her smiling.

"Condom, Jeff, hurry," she whispered – but it was Annie who leaned back and rolled it on him, and a second later she was lifting up, balancing herself against his shoulders, and sinking back down again.

Jeff made an embarrassing whining noise, and felt his eyes roll back in his head. He clutched her hips, fingers sinking into the folds of fabric where the dress was bunched around her waist, and held on for dear life as she set an urgent pace. Forcing his eyes open, he met her gaze. She looked feverish, dazed, but when he caught and held her gaze, she slowed, licked her lips, and then nodded. She allowed him to guide her hips, and he pushed up deeply into her on every downstroke, until they were moving smoothly together.

"Annie. Fuck. You feel..." There weren't adjectives beautiful enough.

Annie moaned and tilted her head back – and hurrying things along was not going to be a problem. Jeff gritted his teeth and surged up into her, wanting more, wanting everything. When he felt her fingertips brush his cock, he swore and batted her hand away, greedily replacing it with his own. He rubbed at her clit, and Annie squeaked and fell forward over him.

"Yes, yesyesyessss..." She dissolved into incoherent cries, and Jeff was only a few steps behind, kissing her messily as he came.

He found himself blinking up at the ceiling of his car, an indeterminate amount of time later, with Annie panting hard against his neck. He puffed her hair out of his mouth, and groaned quietly. Annie stirred, nuzzling closer, and Jeff ran his hands up her back soothingly, and wondered what was going to happen now. It was distinctly possible – based on past history – that Annie might freak out, but maybe he could forestall that by just being really, really chill. It wasn't much of a plan, but he was feeling too fuzzy-brained to come up with anything elaborate. Besides, he actually _was_ feeling very everything-is-for-the-best-in-the-best-of-all-possible-worlds, so it had the advantage of truth. Fears of the study group finding out and arranging a lynching party or a shotgun wedding were distant and trivial.

Annie let out a contented sigh, however, and lifted her head to blink at him. Jeff couldn't help but grin at her dazed, satisfied expression. "Hey there," he said quietly.

Annie smiled, and pressed a kiss to his jaw. "Mmm," she sighed, looking like she'd like nothing better than to snuggle up with him and go to sleep. Which, actually, sounded kind of awesome. She glanced through the windshield at the school buildings, and gave a more reluctant kind of sigh. "I guess we should get back." Sleepy, snuggly, post-coital Annie was pretty fantastic, decided Jeff.

He glanced at his watch. It had been just over twenty minutes since they left, and yeah, someone was going to realize they were missing soon – if they hadn't already.

The only trouble was, they hadn’t talked yet. And they should talk, right? He at least owed her that.

"Annie, I—"

She put a finger to his lips. "Jeff." She shook her head. "If anyone asks, the heel on my shoe came loose, and you kept me company while I got superglue from my car and glued it back on." She smiled brightly. "I really do keep superglue in the trunk of my car, for emergencies."

Jeff frowned, troubled. It wasn't like Annie not to want to talk. Then again, he remembered, she'd been uncharacteristically calm about it last time, too – because she thought he was rebounding or some crap. But she had to know this time that it wasn't that, right? It had been over a year since his relationship with Britta ended, and this past year he'd been… well, he'd slept with a few women, but he hadn't… well, he'd kind of been focused on Annie, if he was honest. Since the last school dance, in fact. But apparently he and Annie hadn't been on the same wavelength. The idea made him feel strangely unsettled – as if a fundamental fact about the universe had come into question.

Annie, meanwhile, was already back in her bra, and slid into the passenger seat to straighten out her dress. She leaned over him to retrieve her panties from the footwell, and the sight of her head near his crotch strengthened his determination to fix this, somehow. "Annie—"

"Can you move your foot? I think my other heel is stuck under the gas pedal – thanks!"

He pulled his pants up and rebuttoned his shirt, still confused about what he was supposed to do, while Annie redressed and pulled down the sun visor to check herself in the small mirror. He flicked on the light so she could see better, and she threw him a grateful smile – turning to a grimace as she looked at herself.

"Oh dear," she muttered.

While Jeff thought she looked as beautiful as ever, he understood the dismay. There was really no misinterpreting the flush in her cheeks or – more to the point – the stubble burn on her chin. Britta and Shirley would spot it immediately. Abed and Pierce were harder to pin down, but then it wasn't really them he was worried about. "The lights are pretty low in there," he offered. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Maybe I could say I accidentally ate some beans, and had an allergic reaction!"

Jeff gave her a look.

"What? I'm sure I saw some kind of bean dip at the buffet table…" She sighed at his continued look. "Okay, fine. I'll just stay away from them unless they're in darkened corners."

Acting on impulse, he reached over and stroked the back of his fingers along the fine line of her jaw, where it was reddened. "You have such perfect skin," he mused. "I've always been kinda jealous."

She blushed, he could see it now the light was on, but wrinkled her nose. "You'd hate it if you had skin like mine," she said, practically. "I burn at the slightest hint of sunshine."

He chuckled. "Okay, yeah, I don't think I could rock the hothouse flower look," he agreed.

"I like you just as you are," she said, softly. Then turned away quickly. "Come on, before Abed gathers up a posse. He's always wanted to do that."

He drove them back across the parking lot, and together they strolled back towards the cafeteria. He had to resist the urge to put his arm around her or – ugh – hold her hand. Her pace started to pick up nervously as they neared the hall, and he grabbed her elbow, pulling her back. "Nonchalantly," he told her, and she nodded, and visibly loosened herself up, muttering _nonchalant, nonchalant_ under her breath. It was deeply unconvincing – and utterly adorable.

\---

Somehow, they got away with it. No one had noticed their disappearance, due to Garrett being rushed to the hospital following (ironically) an allergic reaction to something he ate at the buffet. Jeff was a little insulted – they'd been gone nearly half an hour, after all – but Annie declared quietly that she was going to send Garrett some flowers. "He'll think they're 'get well soon' flowers, but really they'll be 'thanks for being the perfect distraction' flowers," she told Jeff.

This left Jeff with a dilemma. The rest of the group didn't know, and Annie didn't seem to want to discuss it further, so he could – with the reasonable assumption that there would be no consequences – just let it go, chalk it up to scratching an itch with the hot girl he’d been lusting after since (okay, be honest) the very first year. But... _But._

Was he turning into a thirteen-year-old girl? Or – even worse – was he actually growing up and learning to value real relationships over one-night stands or friends with benefits? Because he wanted to talk to Annie, to find out what she'd thought they were doing, to find out why she wasn't badgering him into admitting what he felt for her. Wasn't that the benefit of getting together with a Type A control freak like Annie – that she did all the hard work of the relationship, and that basically he just had to turn up, look good, say the right things, and give her plenty of orgasms? It was a mutually beneficial arrangement…

…and ugh, even he didn't believe all that any more. If he wanted to be with Annie, he'd have to put the work in – and if he didn't, she wasn't going to force, trap, or badger him into anything. She'd left the ball squarely in his court, and now it was up to him to decide: did he want her or not?

A week after the school dance, Jeff still hadn't decided. Hell, he'd had three years of this indecision, so what difference could one week make? Even if it was one week of knowing exactly how perfectly her breasts fit in his hands, how good it felt to be inside her and to have her coming around him… They were seriously physically compatible – this hadn't exactly come as a surprise to him. He'd always figured they'd be great in bed together. So the _absolute, almost uncontrollable craving_ he had to touch her, and kiss her, and take her to bed (again; properly; for the first time) was a perfectly normal reaction to that, and shouldn't be taken as an indicator of any kind of emotional resolution.

He'd done a lot of pacing. He'd also done all the pre-course reading for the biology retake. If this state of turmoil continued, he might manage to finish the course early and get some time off over the summer, so that was a plus. Hell, he could even add in some online classes and just power through the entire rest of his degree.

But tomorrow was their first day back, and he was beginning to think that his ability to focus in a classroom that also contained Annie Edison was going to be doomed to failure. Given his history, he had to accept that there was a strong possibility he would snap in front of the entire study group, or class, or school, and do… something dramatic. He didn't know what, exactly, but last night he'd dreamed that he was being crowned Tranny Queen, and Annie was leaving, and the only way he could think of to stop her was to grab the microphone that was being held by the giant Dalmatian and yell out … well. He woke up in a cold sweat, _the words_ still ringing in his ears, and knew he had to do something, or risk serious public embarrassment.

Which was why he was knocking on the door to apartment 303 at half-past eight on Sunday morning. Abed answered, and Jeff opened his mouth – and kept it open as his gaze landed on Abed's hair. His eyebrows rose. "Wow," he said, in genuine admiration. " _Nice_ bedhead."

"Thanks," said Abed. "I achieved it by being in bed. Are you here to talk to Annie?"

" _No_ ," said Jeff, automatically – and then sighed. "Well, yes. But it's not – I'm not—"

Abed turned away, leaving the door open. "You know where her room is," he said, stalking back into his curtained-off 'bedroom'. He was not, Jeff now recalled, a morning person.

This left Jeff with the option of a) chickening out, or b) going to knock on Annie's bedroom door. He glanced at the curtained-off area, where Abed was no doubt listening to everything, and then at the still-open front door, and sighed. Slipping inside and closing the door gently behind him – although why he was bothering when the only person who still appeared to be asleep was the one person he needed to talk to, he wasn't sure – he made his way quietly across the living room and knocked softly.

"Annie?" he whispered. "It's Jeff. Can I talk to you?"

There was a pregnant pause, during which he became increasingly aware of the ears behind him. Then there was a stirring within, the soft pad of feet, the sliding back of bolts (hmm), and the creaking of the door handle. Annie peered out, blinking blearily up at him.

"Jeff?" she croaked.

"Sorry. I thought you'd be awake by now," he said, pitching his voice low. "Aren't you usually up at like six-thirty every day?"

Annie shook her head. "Wes Craven marathon last night," she explained.

Jeff frowned. "I thought you hated that kind of movie?"

Annie glared past him. " _I do._ And yet I got to listen to them until four in the morning anyway!"

There was a rustling behind him that somehow managed to sound guilty, and Jeff smirked. Annie rubbed her knuckles into her eyes. "You might as well come in," she yawned, turning away and padding back to the bed.

Jeff closed this door behind him, as well, and followed, sitting beside her on the bed. Annie was eyeing her pillow, and he suspected that she wasn't entirely awake, or else she might have been a little more questioning of his presence.

"Sorry for waking you. I can go," he offered, awkwardly aware that it was his urgent need to talk that had brought him there that early, not hers. "Come back later."

"No, no – I'll be th—" The rest of her word was lost in a giant yawn, and she slumped sideways, burying her face in her pillow with a groan. "When did I ever think moving in here was a good idea?!"

"Probably after the second time someone tried to break into your crappy one-room apartment above a sex shop," he reminded her.

Annie grunted. "Every day now is a day that I don't see Spaghetti," she said dreamily, and smiled at him from her face-smooshed position. Jeff smiled back, losing himself for a long moment. She was just… so beautiful...

He was startled when she moved, and reached out a hand to thump the bed beside her.

"I'm getting a neck ache," she informed him. "Lie down."

"Uh…"

"I won't bite," she promised, but it was the accompanying wicked smirk that decided him. Gingerly, he toed off his shoes and lay down facing her on one of her polka-dotted pillows, while Annie swung her legs back up onto the bed and tugged the corner of the duvet over herself. "There," she said. "It's nice to be level with you for once."

"Uh, yeah." He was having the hardest time resisting putting his arms around her and pulling her close. "You sure you don't want me to come back later? I could take you to breakfast, there's that new local foods cafe on Cherry that's supposed to be excellent…"

She shook her head. "It's fine. Why're you here, Jeff?"

It was her eyes, he decided. They were just too kind, and understanding, and non-judgmental. They dragged out the truth from him, whether he wanted to give it or not. "I don't know," he admitted. "I was kind of hoping to work it out on the fly, but so far…" He shrugged – not so easy when lying down. "I got nothin'."

"Okay." She shuffled a bit more, making herself comfortable. "So start further back. What were you hoping you could answer, when you saw me?"

"Well, you know. Whether or not I… if I thought we…"

Fuck it. He reached out and pulled her into his chest, under his chin. She was deliciously warm, and she made a happy little noise and snuggled closer, one hand on his waist and the other curled between them. "Don't fall asleep on me," he warned her.

"Mm-hmm."

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, and, despite her rather unconvincing assurance, he was pretty sure she was already halfway back to sleep. How was she managing to be so laid back about this, when it had him all in knots? Was she really that uninterested – or were her expectations of him that low? He clutched her closer, jealously. Had he missed his chance – wasted his opportunity? Was it too late?

"It's not that I don't want this," he confessed quietly, "it's just that I'm not sure _how_ to do it. I'm not good at… at all this."

There was a long pause before Annie answered, her voice thick with sleep. "Feels pretty good to me."

Jeff quirked a smile. "You're just saying that because you hope I'll shut up and let you go back to sleep."

Another long pause. "Hmm. Maybe. Is it gonna work?"

" _No._ "

She sighed deeply. "Okay. Keep going. I'm listening."

"Doesn't this bother you?" he asked, before he could stop himself. "I mean, far be it from me to encourage you to go all Fatal Attraction, but wouldn't you normally be cornering me right now?"

"I already tried that," she pointed out. "And look where it got me. I'm an optimist at heart, Jeff, but there's only so long I can go on beating my head against a brick wall."

"I know," he sighed. "I'm a jerk."

She shook her head. "You're just you," she said fondly. "I've stopped trying to fight that."

He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. The way she always tried to fight his lazy, underhanded, duplicitous side was one of the things he lo… that he liked best about her. "So last week was… what? You giving up?"

She was silent for a long time, although this time he was pretty sure she wasn't falling back asleep. "Not exactly," she said. "It was… I just got to thinking about last year and the year before, and how the end-of-year dance seems to be a weak point for you for some reason, and then I just…"

Jeff grinned. "Annie Edison, did you decide to take advantage of me because you were horny?"

"No!" She smacked him, but she was too close for it to have much impact. "No," she insisted. "It's not – it wasn't like that. I was just... I was living in the moment," she said. "That's all."

"The moment being you wanting to have sex with me."

He could practically hear her eyes roll. "I didn't hear you complaining."

"Oh, I wasn't," he assured her. "You can take advantage of me anytime. I don't mind."

She chuckled, and then sighed, and moved closer. "Do you ever just get tired, Jeff?"

"Are you going back to sleep on me?"

"No, I mean… sometimes I don't want to be Annie the Day Planner, you know? Always knowing where I'm going and what I'm doing, following the rules, living my life to a schedule. Sometimes I just want to do something impulsive, and damn the consequences."

He stayed silent. He'd often thought – and, in fact, said – that she needed to learn how to loosen up and go with the flow. But was that really true, or was it just something he said because it made him feel better about not having a plan himself?

"Maybe it's stupid," she said wearily. "Maybe I should just stick to what I know, the methods that work for me. It's safer. Less messy."

"I don't know," he said. "I mean, you going off-book has historically worked out pretty well, after all. For me in particular."

She huffed a brief laugh, and fell silent again for a long time. Jeff absently stroked his fingers up and down her shoulder. She was in a little white tank top with peach-colored hearts all over it, and matching peach-colored shorts, an outfit that somehow managed to be adorable and sexy at the same time. Abed had probably assumed they were going to bone – although hopefully he understood that the lack of cries of ecstasy from Annie meant that wasn't happening. He'd hate for anyone to think he couldn't make her scream his name if he wanted.

…It was probably best not to think about that right now.

"So what about you?" she asked, startling him. "Why did you give in? It's not like you don't know how to turn a woman down and still have her thinking you're the most charming thing on two legs, after all."

He thought carefully about his response. "I guess I could say I was tired," he said. "And you know the school dances are a weak point for me – what can I say, those power ballads really do it for me. So I could say I was in a vulnerable state. That'd be a believable excuse. But do you want the truth?"

"Always, Jeff."

He shuffled down, until they were face-to-face once more. He held her gaze, so she could see his sincerity. "The truth is, I wanted it to happen. Not just the sex – everything. You and me. The whole shebang."

She blinked at him, looking uncertain. And screw it, he might as well go for broke.

"This might sound crazy, but the whole of this year, I've been kind of assuming that you and I were heading somewhere. I didn't push it because I wasn't sure that I was ready, or that I even wanted that, but… on some level, I expected it to happen. And at the dance I may, possibly, have been freaking out a little because there's this whole artificial deadline thing and it kind of felt like it was now or never…" He squirmed, uncomfortable under her searching gaze. "Am I making sense?"

"You thought we were endgame," she said slowly.

He nodded (and it was totally Abed's fault that he knew that term). "Yeah." He winced: now would be a good moment for her to get really irate with him for his complete inability to communicate.

" _Jeff..._ "

"I know, I know, I suck, I should have talked to you about this rather than assume—"

She kissed him. As a silencing device, it was pretty effective. She tasted a little like morning breath, but mostly like Annie, and the rush of relief and desire was dizzying, and an odd feeling swept through him, like nostalgia for something he'd never had. Suddenly, everything seemed simple. He rolled them so she was lying back on her pillow, and kissed her thoroughly.

When he paused, she smiled brightly up at him. "I'm your happy ending!"

" _No._ " Why did he even do that, he wondered – try to argue himself out of a good thing? Annie was still smiling, though. "Maybe. If I believed in crap like that."

"I've never been someone's happy ending," she said, and okay, he was prepared to concede the point, if only to keep that expression of wonderment on her face. How could he help feeling all this stuff for her when she looked at him like that?

"Okay, you kind of are. But don't tell anyone I said that," he said, suddenly thinking of the group.

Her smile turned mischievous. "Okay. I'll just tell them we're sleeping together and that it's totally meaningless," she said blithely.

"No! Don't tell them that, either! God, Shirley would... We should just tell them you could no longer resist my sheer magnetism, and threw yourself at me, so I took pity on you."

"In your dreams, Jeff Winger!"

"Ow! Ow!" He caught her hand and trapped it against his chest, smirking. "Okay! We won't tell them that."

"Because it's not true."

"Because it's not true," he echoed obediently. "Even though you totally—"

This time she flipped him onto his back (he was secretly very impressed) and started hitting him with a pillow.

"Ow! Ow! God, you're violent – help! I'm being beat up," he called, laughing.

"Oh, shut up – you deserve it," said Annie, from astride him. Jeff grabbed the pillow and tried to wrestle it from her, but her grip was surprisingly strong.

There was a knock on the door. "Jeff? Do you need rescuing, or is this a sex thing?" Abed asked, in his usual level voice.

They froze, staring at one another. Jeff quirked his eyebrows at Annie – breathless, eyes bright and cheeks attractively flushed. "Don't you dare," she hissed.

"Oh it is so TOTALLY A SEX THING," called Jeff, watching for the moment her face scrunched in annoyance, so he could catch her incoming hand and pull her down for a kiss. She hummed, melting over him, and Jeff lost track of everything until Abed spoke through the door again.

"Okay. I'll leave you to it, in that case. And congratulations, I guess."

"Mm—Thanks, Abed!" called Annie, dragging her lips away and sitting up.

Jeff huffed in frustration. "Can we please go to my place? I don't think I can do this with the peanut gallery listening to our every move."

Annie wriggled on top of him in a way that made him reconsider that statement. "No. I'm going to the bathroom, and then I'm getting dressed, and you're taking me out to breakfast, where you will tell me all the things you like best about me, OR," she said, when he opened his mouth to protest, "I'm telling everyone that you said I was your happy ending."

"Grossly unfair, and not even true," he objected. "You said that, not me."

Annie wriggled again, and Jeff's eyes closed of their own accord. "Ah, but you agreed," she reminded him.

" _One_ thing I like about you," he bargained. "And you have to tell me five things you like about me. And after breakfast we go to my place and I make you scream."

When he managed to open his eyes again, Annie was smiling softly down at him. "Three things each, and my boobs only count as one item," she said. "That's my final offer. And I can't go back to your place after breakfast because I have stuff to do today, but I'll come over later. You can make me dinner, and we'll call it a date." She bit her lip and lowered her eyelashes seductively. "And maybe I'll make _you_ scream."

He considered, and then nodded. "You have a deal, counselor."

Then she was kissing the end of his nose and bouncing out of bed with the kind of energy that was only possible on four hours' sleep if you were under 25. Jeff stayed put, feet dangling off the end of the bed and fingers tapping thoughtfully at his chest as he processed everything. Dilemma solved, he guessed. How did she do that – make everything seem so easy? 

"Are you decent?"

He lifted his head. Abed was leaning nonchalantly in the open doorway (had Annie done that on purpose?) in his PJs, holding a bowl of cereal.

"Rarely," he retorted. "Abed, you can see I'm fully dressed."

"I know. It just seemed like the appropriate opening for the 'slacker roommate' role. I can go with 'disapproving dad' if you'd prefer, but I'd have to change."

"No, no – slacker roommate is fine," said Jeff hastily, sitting up and straightening his shirt. He watched as Abed spooned Froot Loops into his mouth. "You're being surprisingly calm about this."

"Inside I'm dancing," Abed replied dryly. "Seriously, Jeff, if you think I didn't see this coming then you're even more deluded than I thought." He ate another mouthful of cereal thoughtfully. "It was the school dance, wasn't it," he said at last, not even bothering to phrase it as a real question. "I thought something was up when you and Annie went missing for twenty-eight minutes."

Jeff eyed Abed with exasperated affection. "Do you miss _anything_?"

"Other than the occasional episode of Cougar Town, and the vast majority of subtle human emotions, no, not really," replied Abed. He looked down at his bowl. "And sometimes people," he added quietly, and Jeff remembered that Troy wasn't outside the door, waiting his turn to berate/congratulate/confuse Jeff. No, he was off at the Air Conditioning Repair School, which apparently didn't let its students have a summer break. ("It's their busiest time, Jeff – it's like air conditioning Christmas!")

"Have you heard from him at all?"

Abed shook his head. "No. Not even at our secret drop point," he said.

"I'm sorry," said Jeff, awkwardly. "I'm sure he'd communicate if he could. Anyhow, look, you know they can't actually force him to stay, right? That's a breach of civil liberties. I could make a case and have him out of there like that." He snapped his fingers. "If this continues…"

But Abed was already shaking his head. "Troy gave his word," he said simply. "Even if they weren't a top-secret organization who could make us suffer in sweltering homes, classrooms and offices for the rest of our lives, he wouldn't break it." His eyes lit. "Unless it turns out that he's being used as a pawn in a dark power struggle, and then becomes the rogue element who brings the Air Conditioning Repair School into the light and burns out all the bad elements," he said. "Then he could come home."

"Uh, yeah," said Jeff. "Let's hope for that, I guess." But if Troy wasn't back with them by September, Jeff vowed silently, he was going to take steps. After all, they'd only demonstrated their spooky fan-stopping powers within Greendale itself – and things broke around there all the time, it could just have been coincidence. Sure, it had been exactly the right fan at exactly the right moment, but correlation did not imply causation. And either way, he had a feeling that they wouldn't want to discuss it in a court of law.

Abed was smiling slightly at him, and for a moment Jeff wondered if he was reading his mind. "Jeff, Jeff, Jeff. Still trying to take care of us," he said. "You know, I might have gotten it wrong, at the beginning. I thought you were the Jerk with the Heart of Gold, but now I'm starting to think you're actually the Gentle Giant. That's good," he said, when Jeff raised his eyebrows. "It works out much better for you, romantically speaking. Much more stable." His face dropped suddenly. "Except when it works out really, really tragically…" He turned to Annie as she returned. "You should get tested for leukemia and TB, and don't go near any large construction equipment or dark alleys until I know which path we're on," he told her.

"What?" She looked from Abed to Jeff. "The hell?"

"Abed, shut up, she's fine and nothing's going to happen to her, stop trying to freak her out," said Jeff. "Or me," he added. He grabbed Annie's hand and tugged her to stand between his legs, wrapping his arms around her. Not because he believed Abed, but just… because.

"We're just going to breakfast," said Annie. "It's not dangerous, except maybe for Jeff's cholesterol count." She winked at him.

"The first breakfast…" Abed looked between them. "No, you should be okay, it doesn't usually happen until you've been together a while," he concluded. "Usually after you get married, or engaged, or pregnant. Don't propose," he told Jeff.

"Abed!" he yelped. "I had no intention of—"

"And for god's sake, don't book any flights to Paris."

"I wasn't going to—!"

"Excuse me, I have important research to do about the dangerous turn your relationship may have taken." And he was gone.

Annie turned in Jeff's arms and pouted down at him, but her eyes were twinkling. "Aw. So Paris is out," she said.

"Apparently. _Jesus_."

"I think this is just his way of saying he's happy for us," she said, a little dubiously.

"Yeah, well, I wish he could have said it in a less terrifying way," grumbled Jeff. "Are you really sure you want to go to breakfast and risk exploding fat fryers, poisoned waffles, and the waitress going postal?"

"I'll take the chance," she said, smiling. "After all, we can't hole up in my bedroom forever."

Jeff grinned up at her. "I'd make it worth your while," he offered.

"I'm sure you would," she agreed, stroking her hand through his hair – and whether she merely intended to soothe him, or if she really meant it, either way he felt his stomach unknot. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes. "This is going to take some adjustment," she said softly. "For everyone, I mean. We'll just have to be patient."

"Mm." He rested his head on her conveniently close and braless (!!!) chest, and took a deep breath. "But there are perks. Like, I'm pretty sure that if I stayed here for an hour every day, my stress levels would go down, my grades would go up, and I'd be at least fifteen percent less brutally sarcastic. You smell _amazing_."

"Aww," she cooed softly. "I smell like I need a shower. I just came to get—"

"And don't make any sentimental videos, put in for your retirement, or forget to sign your insurance forms," said Abed, reappearing and making them both jump. "And avoid saying all the usual clichés, like 'I'll be right back', or 'I love you'."

"Saying 'I love you' isn't a cliché!" objected Annie.

"Yes it is. The biggest cliché of all. And stop being so sappy."

"Oh, so being sappy is dangerous, too, now?" she asked, exasperated.

"No, it's just turning my stomach. Seriously, can't you two turn it down a notch? It's way too early."

Abed disappeared again before the pillow that Annie threw could land. She turned back and huffed loudly. "One of these days..."

"We'll just have to be patient," he reminded her.

She stuck her tongue out at him, and then pulled out of his embrace to grab a hairbrush from her dresser. She paused at the door, and then whirled back around dramatically, her eyes wide. "Jeff Winger," she said in a low, throbbing voice, as she stalked towards him. Jeff's heart kicked up as she stepped in close and took hold of his jaw, tilting his head up towards her. She moved in close, and he had to fight to stay still, his eyes closing as her lips brushed his, sliding along his cheek and down to his ear. "I'll be right back," she whispered. And – with a wink and a bright, self-amused smile – she was gone again.

It took Jeff's brain a second to reboot. He flopped back on her bed, grinning at the ceiling. "I'LL BE RIGHT BACK YOU, TOO!" he called.

"GAH!" yelled Abed. "STOP TEMPTING FATE!"

\---

_They actually miss most of the dance at the end of year four, because what starts out as a major fight ends up in bed – as is so often the case nowadays. By the time they make it to the dance, it's reached the cheesy power ballad stage. They step onto the dance floor, wrap their arms around each other, and start swaying. Jeff leans his cheek on the top of Annie's head and releases a sigh that he feels like he's been holding back forever._

_At the end-of-year-five dance, Jeff has a small, square box distorting the pocket of his best suit, and he's more nervous than he's ever been in. his. life._

_He doesn't need to worry: Annie has already prepared her acceptance speech._


End file.
